


Watching the marketplace

by imsfire



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian is a good judge of character, Established Relationship, Feels, Gen, Helping, Jyn and Cassian always have one another's backs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Jyn’s hand creeps towards her comm, readying herself to call the meeting off.  She sorts through memories, trying to identify the man she's seen before...





	Watching the marketplace

**Author's Note:**

> Because several people asked me what happened to Wing Tozer, the stormtrooper OC from "Under the rubble"...

Patience is a skill like any other.

She sweeps the target area steadily, back and forth, keeping watch through her scope.  Just waiting, just keeping watch, again.

So many times, she’s waited; so many times, for so many people, so many hopes.  Don’t think about them.  Just think about now.  Just keep watch.

The marketplace; twenty-odd stalls, the usual range of wares and the usual buzz of sound.  Stall-holders calling out over the blur of other voices, tinny background music from one of the bars.  A moderate number of people; it’s crowded enough to give cover but not too crowded for a quick escape if it comes to that. 

The café on the southwest of the little plaza; half a dozen terrace tables and perhaps three times as many indoors, a line of striped umbrellas, a single waiter looking hassled.  The rendezvous point.  Cassian isn’t there yet.  Their contact is.  He’s in full view from Jyn’s balcony vantage point; a grey-clad, grey-faced customs officer with demoralised eyes and a tall glass in front of him.  At the other outside tables, three old guys playing cards, two women drinking kaf and eating cake and talking nonstop, and a young couple holding hands. 

The street to the south, their Plan A exit route, lined with machine shops and spare parts dealers; clear.  The street to the west, Plan B escape route, more small shops and the tail end of the market, a busy pedestrian thoroughfare; also clear.  The street to the north-west, leading to a district checkpoint; avoid at all costs.

She moves to the upper levels and sweeps again.  Windows; no sign of any other sniper besides herself.  Balconies, rooftops, ditto.  All clear.

 Jyn returns her scope and swings back round the marketplace, south to north; market, café, streets, then windows and roofs; and back around once more, monotonous, continuous, checking the market and the café terrace again and again.

The contact is sipping his Marulian iced tea and reading a pad, his face tired and switched-off.  The youngsters two tables away look a lot more nervous about being here than him.

Wait.  The youngsters.

She’s seen that lad before. 

_Who?  Where?_

Jyn’s hand creeps towards her comm, readying herself to call the meeting off.  She sorts through memories, trying to identify the man.  Her thoughts race.  He’s dark, young, handsome, tense.  Probably not much above twenty.  Close-cropped black hair, worried eyes.  Both familiar and not; so, a face she’s seen only once or twice, or very briefly, or very seldom; or, not for years?  He has a distinctive nose, both broad and long, a narrow bony face.  One of the Partisan kids, grown to adulthood but still with the same features?  No, it can’t be that; she can’t remember any of the child soldiers at Saw’s looking enough like him.  **_Where?  Who?_**

A weird nagging hunch in her mind keeps saying _Friend_. 

She questions it unhappily, full of doubt.  The designation _Friend_ is never that easy.

She doesn’t recognise the girl with him at all.  About the same age, with a face like a sharp golden heart, framed in rose-pink hair.  Smarter, more fashion-conscious than her boyfriend. 

Both of them are nervous.  The young man is masking it well but it’s unmistakeable once spotted; she can see, through the magnification of her gunsight, how his hands are knotted tight over the girl’s.  He’d give anything to be able just to take wing.

Wing.

That was the name.  Wing Tozer.  Cassian’s earthquake boy.  Met just once, covered in dust and blood; but that’s who he is.  Tozer.

Two seconds have passed and she’s still staring, and Cassian comes into view.

He’s carrying a bag of groceries, dressed in dark close-cut clothes that suit him; he looks handsome and ordinary, just another regular citizen picking up the mid-week shop.  She sees he’s bought salad greens, pimientos, in fact it looks as though the whole batch of shopping is fresh vegetables and fruit, and Jyn’s mouth is watering as she raises the comm.  She swallows her saliva and whispers “Third table from left, iced tea.  Also - check out the table by the space heater.”

Her scope is trained on him; she sees his eyes flick that way and widen minutely before he strolls onto the terrace and speaks to the contact.  He’s left the comm link open; she can hear the exchange, the agreed codes, a little muffled by the fabric of his jacket.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Feel free, I’m going soon.”

“Not on my account, I hope?”

“You know what’s built on hope.”

The man rummages in a pocket as if looking for credits to pay his bill; sets down a chip, and something else from the side of his hand, which Cassian palms without a flicker.  Data secured, they start to talk quietly and Jyn lets herself scan the zone again, curious to see how Tozer and his companion will respond to the situation.

At first when she focuses on them they look just the same.  She notices the girl is in the middle stages of pregnancy.  One thin hand rests on her bump protectively while she chats with Tozer.  Then he jolts; he’s spotted Cassian.  Jyn watches him stiffen, staring fixedly.  His whole posture is different.  He looks half thrilled, half as if he’d been slapped with a fat fish. 

Well, that’s a relief.  There’s no way that’s the reaction of a man lying in wait to betray another.

He leans in close to his girl, speaking rapidly.  His eyes are very wide.  His expression is more and more excited, and Jyn squints, trying to read his lips.  Something with a _w_ and a long _e_ – too long for _we_ , and it’s repeated twice – _sweetie_ , maybe? – then something with _believe_ in the middle.  A long sentence next, with what is surely _quake_ partway through and then words with _oo_ and _ow_ sounds – _soon found_? Or could it be _look round_?  Look round, maybe, since that’s what the young woman promptly does.  Tozer pulls her back, clearly mouthing _No, no, don’t, sweetie_ …

They glance over to Cassian repeatedly, as if they’re both checking this can be real.  They’re trying to be covert about it.  Trying and failing.

“He’s not a plant,” Jyn murmurs into the comm.  “He looks completely gob-slapped to see you, if he’s faking this I’m a Gungan.  Your call.”

Tozer and the pregnant woman have given up trying to hide their reactions now and are staring, clasping hands like scared kids. 

He was only nineteen, she remembers; it’s ten months since the earthquake, so he’s probably twenty by now.  He’s out of uniform.  She wonders who the girl is.  Presumably that high school sweetheart he’d told Cassian about.

Her lips are moving; it looks as though she’s saying _What are we going to do_?  Tozer shakes his head, silent and anxious-looking.  His lips move very slightly, words too indistinct to guess.

In Jyn’s earpiece she hears a rustle and Cassian’s voice whispers “All done here.”

She sweeps sideways to him, in time to see the customs officer strolling away, looking fractionally less disheartened.

“Heater table,” she reminds him.  “Staring.  Your call.”

Cassian pays for his kaf and stands up; he stretches, sneaking a half-second glance over his shoulder, and picks up his groceries, settling the bag in the crook of his left arm; then stops, gaping theatrically as he straightens.  He’s left the comm still open and she hears him faintly saying “Is it? – is it really? – It can’t be! – how amazing!”

He strides forward, holding out his right hand.  Tozer has stood up; she sees him beam and hold out a shaking hand.  He stutters something faint that sounds like “I didn’t expect to see you…”.

Cassian says firmly “Yes, it’s been _years_ , hasn’t it?  You were still at school!  How is your papa these days?”  And then, super-charming, directing his very warmest smile at the pregnant woman “ _Hello_!  You must be Nerine?  Willix Hallik, I’m an old friend of Tozie here’s father.  Enchanted to meet you!”

The young woman’s voice is low and sweet, too far off to hear clearly.  She’s hugging Wing Tozer’s arm as if she’s afraid she may fall off her chair.  She smiles hopefully at Cassian.  Jyn watches and listens as he joins them at their table. 

He sits talking cheerfully for five minutes, every inch the well-meaning self-absorbed older acquaintance.  In answer to some very leading questions, Tozer stumblingly relates that he and Nerine are here because they needed a change before they’re tied-down with the baby.  Then he says “I left – the company – three months ago and I’m hoping to – get a job with Mr Koberen, do you remember him?”

“Of course, a charming man,” Cassian says smoothly.

Koberen; the Imp Commander Tozer had been bodyguard for at that fated exchange, the day of the earthquake.  _Well done, kid, that’s not a bad way of coding that you’re on the run._

Cassian chats on, keeping it to strictly inconsequential stuff.  At length he excuses himself, and she snorts as he jokes about the little woman waiting for her vegetables. 

The kids look tragic; they think he’s abandoning them.  _Relax, you don’t know Cassian_ …

He says “Let me give you our number, you must come to lunch while you’re staying locally.  Do you have a data-pad?”

Tozer’s eyes light up and he fumbles in a pocket.

She watches him hand over a cheap burner pad; watches Cassian enter something onto it.  He’s quick and deft, but she knows him well enough to know he’s taking slightly too long for that to be just a comm number.  Has he just redirected Tozer and Nerine, sent them to a safe house?  Or is she going to find they’ve got passengers for their homeward journey?

He hugs the youngsters and kisses them both, on each cheek, like an old family friend; she can hear him murmuring something, and his tone is reassuring, but there’s too much fabric rustling for her to make out words.  They are both smiling as he draws away and picks up his shopping once again.

“Call us!” he says blithely.  “Lianna will be so thrilled to see you both!”

_So it’s passengers, then,_ Jyn thinks.

Tozer and Nerine look shaken but happy, the kind of happy that shivers close to tears, as Cassian moves away.  In his dark clothes, he soon blends in with the rest of the market crowds.  She watches as he vanishes down the southern street.  Still on Plan A, then; clearly he sees no need to switch to the back-up. 

She trusts his judgement absolutely.  Whatever he’s decided, she’ll be with him.

She edges her way back across the balcony till she’s behind the awning, and slips away.


End file.
